Nothing A Couple Drinks Can't Fix
by Perry1
Summary: Oz feels bad after Lover's Walk. Devon and alcohol to the rescue! PG


Nothing A Couple Drinks Can't Fix

Title: Nothing A Couple Drinks Can't Fix  
Author: Perry  
E-mail:   
Characters: Devon, Oz  
Rating: PG (with alcohol)  
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Joss does.  
Summary: Oz feels bad (after Lover's Walk). Devon and alcohol to the rescue!  
Author's Notes: Takes place after Lover's Walk, that night. Remember the few seconds they showed while that sad song was playing, Oz was playing his guitar and thinking? Well okay, this is kind of around then, although I just really wanted to see if you remembered.

* * *

"Hello?"  
  
"Hey."  
  
Not many could tell, but Devon knew when Oz was upset.  
  
"What's wrong man?"  
  
"Stuff."  
  
"I see."  
  
Devon sighed; getting information from Oz was harder than getting into a reluctant groupie's pants.  
  
"Oz, I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong."  
  
"You can't help."  
  
"You wouldn't have called me if you didn't think I could help."  
  
This was true. Oz wouldn't be bothering Devon if it wasn't something Devon could be bothered with. Of course when it was about Oz, Devon would listen and be bothered with everything.  
  
There was a silence. There were a lot of those when talking to Oz. But this silence was very different.  
  
A jagged breath came from the other end of the line.  
  
Devon sat up sharply.  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
"Bronze."  
  
Devon slammed the phone down and grabbed his car keys.  
  
He found Oz sitting on a table, staring at his guitar sadly, his cell phone forgotten beside him. His clothes were rumpled, he looked beat.  
  
"Dude, you look awful."  
  
"Bitch of a day."  
  
Devon sat beside him, pocketing the phone.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Oz shrugged, "Not too sure."  
  
Devon nodded, keeping his patience. This was Oz he was talking to. The point would come, slowly but surely.  
  
A moment of silence, "Cordy and I were looking for Willow and Xander all night."  
  
Devon nodded; Oz had mentioned that earlier that day.  
  
"We found them..." suddenly Oz didn't have to go any further. The look on his usually expressionless face said everything it was going to say.  
  
"Oh wow, you're kidding!" Devon's jaw dropped. He had never liked Harris, and that Willow had never given him good feelings.  
  
"No. As funny as that is, I'm not kidding," Oz mumbled, hugging his arms around his guitar.  
  
Devon smirked. That reply was from one of their favorite Ellen Degeneres jokes. He put his arm around Oz and tried to see if he was smiling or not.  
  
He was, or at least he was smiling just as much as Oz ever does.  
  
"So, what else?"  
  
Oz's shoulder moved in the tiniest of shrugs, "That's about it. They kissed, we came in, we all freaked. Cordy's in the hospital."  
  
"You're—" Devon stopped himself from saying it. Oz emitted a short laugh, "You're not kidding."  
  
"No. She fell on this rod thing. She'll be okay," he didn't seem worried, "Let's visit her tomorrow."  
  
Devon nodded hurriedly; he really wanted to see Cordelia, but needed Oz to feel better first.  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Devon looked around the Bronze, they were very much alone. The place was closed that night for everybody, but as their main band, the Dingoes were allowed special privileges.  
  
His eyes fell upon the bar.  
  
"Want a drink?" He asked, getting up and hopping over the counter, expertly turning on the taps and setting up shot glasses.  
  
"Very much so," Oz followed him, sliding into a seat.  
  
Devon began to fill their glasses, grinning at the gleam in Oz's eyes. The two of them still got excited whenever they did something wrong (such as steal and drink alcohol illegally from the Bronze, and their employer.)  
  
Oz took the first shot, and Devon knew he was helping in brightening him up.  
  
Devon vowed to spend the rest of the night making Oz feel better.  
  
Him and the alcohol, that is.  
  
"This stuff must be good, there are like 5 half empty bottles down here," Devon commented as he took a drink.  
  
"You could combine them; make 2 and a half bottles."  
  
Devon was never one for math, especially not fractions, so he had to think about this. After a moment of being considerably lost, Devon emptied his shot glass. "They'd know we were messing with their stuff then."  
  
"True," Oz knew very well what could happen if the manager found out just how many nights they spent here drinking, or even worse, how many bottles they had stolen from the bar to go drink elsewhere.  
  
Chuck, the bartender, knew very well both of those numbers, but he didn't like his boss, so he let everything slide. Besides, the stuff the boys took and drank, it showed they had great taste.  
  
"Ever want to break into this thing?" Devon asked, turning around and waving his hand towards the huge glass case behind the bar. It was locked with a chunky padlock, and held only the finest in wines and hard alcohol.  
  
"It's weird the Bronze even has such nice stuff," Oz remarked. Everyone pretty much took the Bronze for only having cheap beer as that was what they sold to the college (and some high school) kids. Little did they know what they could get if they were over a certain age (26, that was Chuck's limit for handing out cheap stuff) or were willing to pay a little more.  
  
Devon didn't seem to hear Oz's statement, he was looking at that lock, "Shouldn't be too hard to bust."  
  
"Devon," Oz's voice stopped Dev from taking a step forward to further examine the lock, "we've got two and a half bottles of perfect good stuff."  
  
"Very true," Devon gave up on the perfectly perfect stuff behind the glass. There was no way Oz would ever support breaking into that case.  
  
He took another shot and filled the glasses before pulling up a stool to sit down behind the bar, opposite from Oz.  
  
After a few more drinks, Devon attempted to talk about that night again.  
  
"So, you want to figure out what you're gonna do?"  
  
"No."  
  
Devon nodded.  
  
"I will, tomorrow or something."  
  
"Cool."  
  
"You'll help me deal, right?"  
  
Devon raised his glass, "Me and Mr. Vodka."  
  
Oz smiled and clinked his shot glass with Devon's, "My two best friends."  
  
"How would you live without us?" Devon was smiling too. Whatever happened now with Willow, Cordelia and everyone, they could manage, as long as they had each other and an open bar. (Or at least an unattended bar out in the open.) 


End file.
